


so this is love

by Anonymous



Series: cherry blossom season [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Hwang Hyunjin is Whipped, M/M, Missing Scene, T for trashmouth, how much pining do you think i can fit into this bad boy, my seungmin hot agenda strikes again, the answer is a lot, there is no plot or solid throughline this is just a bunch scenes stacked together in a trench coat, unbelievably self-indulgent and one hundred percent fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The simultaneous best and worst day of Hyunjin’s life occurs during the last semester before freshman year, when his thermos rolls pathetically down a hill and stops at the feet of a beautiful boy and with it, Hyunjin’s heart as well.(Hyunjin falls in love beneath the  cherry blossoms and it’s actually really fucking embarrassing for him, thanks.)aka, missing scenes from tumbling hair, picker of buttercups
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin
Series: cherry blossom season [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136198
Comments: 8
Kudos: 94
Collections: Anonymous





	so this is love

**Author's Note:**

> it took me a while to decide from whose perspective i wanted to write **tumbling hair, picker of buttercups** , but by the time i finally settled on seungmin, i had already written a decent chunk of both? so this part is much shorter and probably _very_ disjointed, but i figured it was worth polishing up hyunjin’s bits, adding in a couple more scenes to round things out, before posting as a companion piece.
> 
> title is from so this is love by day6 (even of day) bc it played on repeat as i was writing and it slaps

The simultaneous best and worst day of Hyunjin’s life occurs during the last semester before freshman year, when his thermos rolls pathetically down a hill and stops at the feet of a beautiful boy and with it, Hyunjin’s heart as well.

The stranger bends to pick it up, long fingers wrapping around the orange, insulated body, before looking up at Hyunjin, who is slightly out of breath from trying to chase it down. He’s already feeling a little under the weather so his lungs burn twice as hard from the effort, only Hyunjin’s too distracted by the sight of the mole that sits on the knuckle above the stranger’s thumb to really feel the full effect.

“Yours, I’m assuming?” His smile is open and friendly. There’s a mole on his left cheek.

And on the side of his nose as well.

And now Hyunjin is just openly staring.

He literally _cannot_ stop staring.

Especially at the full set of lips whose corners are beginning to slip from its smile because Hyunjin hasn’t made any moves to reply or take back his proffered belongings.

In fact, entire _seconds_ pass by before Hyunjin regains enough of his faculties to respond, “Um yeah. Thanks” and reaches out to grab the thermos, careful to not brush fingers because his own are feeling clammy for some inexplicable reason.

He goes to dry them on the side of his track pants, suddenly very self-conscious about his ‘just rolled out of bed’ attire compared to the dandy blue sweater and jeans the stranger is sporting. One of them is clearly dressed for success.

The other is Hyunjin, who finds himself staring _again_.

“So are you here to take the entrance exam?” He strangely doesn’t want this conversation to end and blurts out the first question that comes to mind.

The boy, in response, raises an eyebrow. “Clearly?”

_Of course_ _he’s here to take the exam_ , Hyunjin thinks, growing increasingly more embarrassed. It’s a Saturday morning—there's no other reason for him to be here, if not to take the exam alongside all of the other students making similar treks uphill.

At least the boy doesn’t seem mean-spirited about it, and is instead just quietly amused. He pushes a pair of wire-rimmed glasses further up his nose and waits for Hyunjin’s response. An emotion he doesn't recognize dances behind a pair of wood bark eyes.

Hyunjin clears his throat. “Me, too.”

Which is equally as obvious.

Hyunjin is taking L’s left and right.

But the stranger smiles again, just as warm as the first time. “Well, good luck on your exam.” He plucks a cherry blossom that lands on the bill of Hyunjin’s hat, rubbing it between his thumb and pointer finger, before letting a breeze lift it completely from his hand. “Maybe we’ll meet again as classmates in the fall.”

Hyunjin is thankful his cheeks are hidden behind a black surgical mask and the shadow of his cap because the blush he is rocking is pink enough to rival the blossom petals falling all around them.

-

To his family’s delight, Hyunjin qualifies for a spot at the prestigious technical high school they’ve been eyeing since he was in diapers, and which Hyunjin readily accepts for reasons beyond just pure academics. Chief among them, the memory of a boy in a sky blue sweater with moles Hyunjin has mapped with kisses in his dreams.

He is such a Pisces, it hurts.

He also looks every bit the wide-eyed freshman on his first day of school, head on a swivel not to marvel at his surroundings, but rather in search of the boy whom Hyunjin is certain is his destiny. There’s no other explanation for the way he felt clubbed over the head the first time they met and despite knowing he isn’t the smoothest operator in the world, Hyunjin’s still never been _that_ tongue-tied before in his life.

The beginning of autumn is still uncomfortably warm. Everyone is being funneled into the gymnasium for the opening ceremony, including Hyunjin, and he watches as the swarm blends together into an amalgamation of hormones and neatly pressed uniforms.

Hyunjin at least has the benefit of being in the midst of a growth spurt, barely tall enough to clear most of the crowd with something like a bird’s eye view. Not that it helps since everyone is so closely packed together and he’s mostly just staring at the tops of people’s heads. None of which, unfortunately, are that distinctive latte color he recalls in vivid detail.

All of the freshmen are directed to a quadrant of foldout chairs on the far side of the gym, nearest the podium, where a tech crew is still setting up. Although this narrows down Hyunjin’s search radius by a quarter, he’s still tragically seated in the first row so there’s no way for him to peer around for any length of time that isn’t obvious to the faculty stationed up front and on stage.

That doesn’t stop him from trying though, stretching his neck muscles discreetly as a senior boy takes to the podium and introduces himself as Bang Chan.

“Welcome freshman and welcome back everyone else!”

Something about the Student Body President is so captivating, even Hyunjin is forced to pause his manhunt and listen for a spell. It’s all the usual drivel about starting the new school year strong, taking pride in your academics and extracurricular activities, etc., but Hyunjin manages to feel a sense of warmth and sincerity in every pre-prepared sentence.

Before long, the welcome concludes and everyone is dismissed to find their homerooms and officially start the school year. At this point, Hyunjin’s shoulders start to sag because he still hasn’t found the boy and the seed of doubt in the back of his head grows that perhaps the boy didn’t pass the entrance exam or decided to go to a different high school after all? It’s definitely possible, although everything about him exuded Top Student energy and this is the best school in the surrounding districts, bar none.

It would only make sense for him to be here, right?

_Right?_

Hyunjin sighs and spots the sign signaling that he has reached classroom 1-A. Upon first glance, it is about what he’s expected: rows of desks with a set of lockers in the back, gleaming glass windows facing out towards the soccer field, and an angel on earth sitting at a desk nearest the clock on the left side of the room.

The blonde does a double take upon entering, stopping in his tracks and causing a small pile-up to form behind him as his other classmates file in. It feels like time has stopped as well, the seconds dropping like flies at Hyunjin's feet.

_It’s him_ , Hyunjin thinks. _The boy with the sky blue sweater._

Except he’s in the standard school uniform this time, white collared shirt buttoned all the way up to his neck. He sits with perfect posture, ramrod straight, while intelligent eyes roam around the room, quietly taking in his surroundings. He already has a notebook opened up to a clean page that is dated in the top right-hand corner, adorably well-prepared.

Hyunjin closes the distance between them and without even realizing he’s even moved at all, until the boy looks up, surprised at the slight shadow that Hyunjin’s body casts.

“Hi,” he breathes, feather-light. This, despite practicing so many different variations of introductions in his head over the last few months, all infinitely cooler than the monosyllabic greeting that actually comes out. Hyunjin’s thankful that his voice doesn’t crack, at least.

“Hello,” the boy says back. “Are you Lee Yongbok?”

“Lee Yongbok?” Hyunjin repeats.

Sensing his confusion, the boy gestures towards the chalkboard behind him, which should have been one of the first things Hyunjin noticed if his eyes weren’t stuck on the boy beneath the clock.

Hyunjin turns to see an elaborate seating chart depicted with the words FIND YOUR SEAT above it.

His stomach sinks to discover that his own is closer towards the back of the class, beside a boy named Han Jisung, and not next to the boy with the sky blue sweater.

Kim Seungmin.

He cycles through a couple of emotions at once: first elation, at finally being able to put a name to a face, and then crushing disappointment for not being Lee Yongbok, followed by embarrassment when the real one appears and noisily clears his throat.

Hyunjin is apparently blocking him from his seat.

His face heats up as he shuffles to allow Yongbok through, and whom greets his seatmate with a smile so bright, even Hyunjin is momentarily stunned.

“Hi Seungmin,” his voice is a deep, rumbling bass; incongruent with his sunny smile and cute, cinnamon-speckled freckles. “You can call me Felix, actually. Let’s have fun this semester~”

Seungmin smiles back, eyes flickering over to Hyunjin, who is then forced to make a tactical retreat. “Nice to meet you Felix.”

Hyunjin is greeted at his own seat by a boy with comically stuffed cheeks, digging into an eggplant quiche responsible for a scent that wafts and lingers distastefully in Hyunjin’s nose.

He tries his best not to grimace—

—and must visibly fail if the offended look on his deskmate’s face is any indication.

Sometimes God giveth, and sometimes God giveth Han Jisung.

-

The school year flies by too quickly compared to the slow but steady progress Hyunjin makes in befriending his crush.

Kim Seungmin is simultaneously everything and nothing like Hyunjin built him out to be in his head; studious without being obsessive, quiet but not necessarily introverted, and unexpectedly funny when he wants to be, his dryer sense of humor lending itself towards witty one-liners or a funny observation that often leaves Hyunjin in stitches.

Consequently, Hyunjin finds himself tearing down the bricks of the pedestal on which he previously placed Seungmin, only to reuse them for the altar he’s in the process of constructing. The more and better he gets to know his classmate, the more convinced Hyunjin becomes that Seungmin was made to be worshipped and adored.

In this, Hyunjin is devout. An unwavering disciple of the Church of Kim Seungmin.

Even throughout his many short-lived relationships (because Hyunjin is pretty and also can’t say no), Seungmin lingers like an echo, still loud enough to drown out everyone’s voice completely. His partners predictably get tired of Hyunjin’s lack of emotional availability and their own inability to penetrate beyond his unfaltering politeness, so cordial it crushes their pride.

The worst part is that Hyunjin actually _tries_ to be a good boyfriend—it just never comes off that way because his heart can’t make room for anyone else and Hyunjin erects subconscious barriers that prevent him from forming any long-lasting romantic connections outside of his long-standing crush.

“Have you considered asking out the person you _actually_ want to date?” Changbin asks over lunch one day, another casualty in a long line of Seungmin stand-ins that Hyunjin has dated over the years. Two sips into his iced Americano was all it took Chanbin to realize the reality of the situation and amend whatever budding feelings he had for Hyunjin into that of amicable friendship.

From across the table, Jisung snorts. “Hyunjin’s been fantasizing about doing that since the day they met. He just doesn’t have the guts.”

“That’s not true! I’m just being careful.”

“More like dragging your feet.”

Hyunjin catapults a French fry at the younger in retaliation. Jisung fires back with a carrot stick that bounces off his chest and onto his tray.

“Who is it anyways?” Changbin interjects before their food fight gets out of hand. “Anyone I might know?”

“Probably. It’s Kim Seungmin.”

Hyunjin punches Jisung’s shoulder, affronted. “Why’d you expose me like that? And keep your voice down! What if someone had walked by and overheard?”

His best friend rolls his eyes. “It’s not like the whole school doesn’t already know, Mr. Why is Seungmin the Treasurer when the real treasure is him?” He shovels a forkful of japchae into his mouth. “How are you _this_ embarassing? Have some pride, for Christ’s sakes.”

Hyunjin sniffs. “But it’s true. Seungmin _is_ a treasure. A National one.”

That was his slogan when Hyunjin embarked on a secret one-man mission to get Seungmin elected. He drew up posters and everything, skipping dance practice to hang them throughout the school once everyone had mostly cleared out.

“That was you?” Changbin snickers. “Dude, Seungmin got clowned on for _weeks_ because you. You probably hurt his campaign more than anything.”

“Well he got elected, didn’t he?”

“No thanks to you.”

Hyunjin pouts, folding his arms as he slumps down further in his seat. His cheeks are hot. “I need better friends.”

-

It’s one of Hyunjin’s fondest memories, actually: finding Seungmin in front of the bulletin board, lips pursed in a contemplative manner, far too kissable for his own good. He’s staring at a bright yellow sign-up sheet, absent-mindedly twirling an uncapped pen in his hand so the ink bleeds and stains the tips of his fingers.

Student Council Elections.

“Are you thinking of running?” Hyunjin asks, pausing on his way to soccer tryouts himself. He has aspirations of being the best centre forward on the team, leading the school to victory, and hoisting a trophy above his head. But all that can wait for Kim Seungmin.

The boy in question startles, wide dependable-looking shoulders jerking in surprise at the sound of Hyunjin's voice. It takes a moment for Seungmin to realize that Hyunjin has asked a question. “Um, maybe. I’m not too sure if I’ll end up doing it though.”

“What? Why not?” It seems absurd to imagine a reality where Seungmin doesn’t sit on the Council in some capacity. It just feels like the logical next step in Seungmin’s character arc and development as the Best and Goodest Boy In The World.

“I just don’t know if I’m cut out for a leadership position,” he laughs. “And don’t forget, I did lose to you for class president last year.”

Hyunjin groans, recalling how he laid in bed for hours terrified that Seungmin would resent him for winning. It had come down to a handful of votes and when the final tally turned towards Hyunjin's favor, the brief look of disappointment on the bespectacled boy’s face hurt more than a sucker punch to the gut. “Because no one really knew anything about us back then,” Hyunjin explains. “I basically got elected off of first impressions alone.” In other words, for his face and visuals alone.

“You _are_ very good looking,” Seungmin notes, off-hand, entirely unaware that Hyunjin has internally combusted upon hearing the compliment. It's different coming from Seungmin. More genuine somehow. “But don’t sell yourself short either—you turned out to be a great class president, in my opinion.”

“Still,” Hyunjin clears his throat, trying not to look too pleased and failing miserably. Seungmin is just so earnest, it’s adorable. “You’re probably the most capable person I know. You work hard, you’re super smart, and you care about others. I don’t see why anyone _wouldn’t_ vote for you, if you choose to run.”

Seungmin is quiet, perhaps considering, before he turns bright, amused eyes in his direction. “Would you vote for me, Hyunjin?”

His smile messes with Hyunjin’s head and he hopes he doesn’t accidentally bare his soul when he answers, “In a heartbeat.”

-

Third year marks a turning point in their relationship, although it isn’t so obvious in the beginning and change hardly feels like it’s lurking around the corner. Hyunjin’s just relieved he and Seungmin end up in the same homeroom again, even if the latter always manages to maneuver himself to a position where Hyunjin can’t openly ogle him like he wants to. They don’t even play the game of seat assignment roulette anymore since their teacher deems them old enough to pick where they want to sit and who they want to sit with, within reason.

For the third year in a row, Hyunjin is stuck with Han Jisung, who is a wonderful friend, but a piss poor wingman.

“It’s not like you make it easy on me,” Jisung complains, dribbling a soccer ball around after practice. Hyunjin is collapsed somewhere near mid-field, staring up at the sky and letting a cool breeze dry off the perspiration on his body. “All you do is shoot moony eyes at him when he’s not looking and complain about his smile.”

“It’s a weapon! He is armed and dangerous, I tell you!”

“You’re pathetic.”

“And your crush on Minho-sunbae isn’t?” Hyunjin shoots back, sitting up.

“Minho-sunbae is like an idol—totally untouchable. You, on the other hand, don’t have that excuse when we’ve been classmates and shared homerooms with Seungmin for _years_. You’ve had nothing but opportunity after opportunity to make a move.”

Hyunjin recognizes this as objectively true. Except “everything about Seungmin is so _intimidating_ and I basically freeze up every time I even _think_ about confessing. So what exactly do you expect me to do?”

“Just spit it out,” Jisung suggests, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Embarrass yourself, if you have to.”

Hyunjin’s done plenty of the latter over the last three years. He’s also spelt it out for Seungmin at every turn, just not in so many words, and regardless he makes it blatantly obvious through his actions and the way he can’t help but to soften his gaze. Hyunjin knows by now that subtlety may not be the play if he wants Seungmin to Get It, but the thought of boldly confessing also makes his stomach twist into knots.

He’d much rather exist in the limbo of “Oh, that’s only Hyunjin being Hyunjin” and give himself that buffer space, than to fully put himself out there in case Seungmin doesn’t feel the same way.

Although sometimes, Hyunjin is _convinced_ that Seungmin likes him back, a glimmer of something in his eyes when he catches the younger staring at him in class. It makes Hyunjin blush, both in the moment and at the thought, because the only thing he can compare it to is the expression Seungmin makes when he’s taking care of his plants: a little bit intense and entirely too tender. And it lingers too, when Seungmin doesn’t immediately look away, meeting Hyunjin’s gaze.

It makes him rely a little too much on wishful thinking.

-

A few days later, he accidentally wrecks Seungmin’s begonias.

-

It’s genius, really.

Hyunjin’s third eye busts open when he comes up with his plan to help Seungmin out with his gardens, and it’s actually pretty perfect, except for the part where Hyunjin has to help Seungmin out with his gardens. Not because he dislikes the grueling, repetitive work or the sweltering hot temperatures cloying the very air they breathe, but because spending so much quality time with Seungmin is potentially dangerous for Hyunjin’s health.

Like right now, when he’s handling a sharp pair of shears but his eyes compulsively wander over towards Seungmin’s direction every other second, unable to focus on the task at hand.

He blames Jisung for putting the thought into his head.

“Seungmin’s kind of hot, no?”

The observation comes out of nowhere and catches Hyunjin by surprise. He looks up from the shooter game he’s currently playing on his phone, respawn counter ticking down because he’s been KO’d from the momentary distraction. “W-what?”

“Kim Seungmin.” Jisung points over towards the boy in question, head tilted and ostensibly massaging a crick out of his neck. His jawline is sharp enough to cut through bone, while sunlight from the window streams in and hits him at just the right angle. He seems to be glowing and not due to the automatic filter Hyunjin views him through in his head. “Has he always been this hot?”

“Of course he has,” Hyunjin snaps, but the question remains.

He’s used a lot of adjectives to describe Seungmin over the years: gorgeous, angelic, the pinnacle of beauty, concrete evidence that God has favorites, etc. But somehow, never hot. (At least, not while he’s in his right mind; Hyunjin will not speak for the person he becomes late at night or occasionally in the shower.) Hot is something he normally doesn't associate with Seungmin as a whole.

Until now.

Because fucking Jisung puts the thought into his head.

Truly, it’s kind of embarrassing how Hyunjin is acting like they’re back in the Joseon era and it makes sense for him to be swallowing his tongue over the sight of an exposed ankle, except the year is 2020, Seungmin’s collarbone peeking out as he bends over to tend to the flowerbeds, and Hyunjin simply _cannot_ look away.

“Hyunjin, you’re literally cutting air,” Seungmin laughs, glancing over at the shape of the hedges as he leans back and stretches.

“Oops.” He can’t even be properly sheepish because the hem of Seungmin’s shirt has risen and he can make out half a centimeter of skin, practically nothing, but enough to drive Hyunjin absolutely mad. “I think the heat is getting to me.”

_In more ways than one._

Seungmin beckons him over. “Come into the shade. I’m going to call it quits soon, too. I just have to finish pruning these rhododendrons first and then I’ll treat you to ice cream.”

“What?” Hyunjin blinks, surprised. “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s okay—I _want_ to,” the brunette grins, a light sheen of sweat illuminating his face and forehead. He swipes at it with the side of his arm, careful to avoid making contact with his dirt-soiled gloves, and smearing it all over. “Besides, you’re looking a little peaked and I can't afford to pay you worker’s comp.”

Hyunjin throws his head back in laughter; can feel the giggles originating from somewhere deep inside in his gut. “I thought you were being nice, but it turns out you’re just cheap.”

Seungmin shrugs, watching as Hyunjin’s shoulders shake, and looking a little bit proud of himself for being the reason why. “I can be both.”

It draws a few more giggles from Hyunjin's lips.

From there, the two fall into a comfortable silence as Seungmin works, meticulous like he is in everything else, thoughtfully cutting old growth to make room for new. Hyunjin peels off his own gloves and tosses them aside, using his hands as a barrier to block out whatever dappled sunlight slips through the branches of the magnolias providing them shade. He could fall asleep like this, listening to the rhythmic clipping noises and the soft sounds of Seungmin’s singing. Like silk and honey to the ear.

“Pretty,” he mumbles. Hyunjin feels his consciousness slipping away; like flowing water, the thoughts running through his head rushing towards the gates of his lips, open and unguarded.

“The song, you mean? It’s by Even of Day.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “No, _you’re_ pretty, Kim Seungminnie. Everything about you is just,” he yawns, “the prettiest.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

Sleepily, he wonders when Seungmin will take a hint. Or rather, the giant projectile missile that is Hyunjin’s love and adoration, locked and loaded.

“Is this you angling for me to buy you cake later, too?”

An idiot.

Kim Seungmin is an idiot, but Hyunjin’s still not motivated enough to confess, content for now to bask in the warmth of mutual friendship.

For now.

-

_“If I were a sunflower, then that would make you the Sun.”_

-

Hyunjin ends up doing it after all.

Confessing, that is; his motivation coming in the form of one Lee Minho.

And once he starts talking, Hyunjin can’t seem to shut up.

He even takes it back to the first time they met and it feels entirely too fitting to be in this moment right now with Seungmin, a few days shy of the anniversary of that date.

When Hyunjin finally confesses, it is not beneath the bloom of the cherry blossoms though, because that would be too cliche, and everything about his crush on Seungmin is embarrassing enough.

But the blossoms are still there in the pink that spreads across his cheeks, in the velvet touch of lips to lips, and how it feels like floating when Seungmin tells him, “Me, too. I like you, too.”

-

Hwang Hyunjin falls in love beneath the cherry blossoms and falls even deeper every year they blossom anew.

**Author's Note:**

> is this whole fic as disjointed as i think it is???? does any of it actually make sense?????? w/e i didn't want to waste the 1.5k of kim seungmin simping hours i had already written so this is the result lmao.
> 
> thanks for joining me on another episode ‘seungmin is cute, hyunjin is having a big gay crisis about it, and everyone’s invited: the series'. ttyl!!!! let me know what you think!!!!
> 
> in the meantime, you can find me openly yelling about KIM SEUNGMIN, THE MAN AND MAIN VOCALIST THAT YOU ARE [here](http://www.twitter.com/stansmola). and if you catch me considering writing a jazz club mafia au, no you didn't <3 


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